


What I'm Living For

by DistractedDream



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Vampire, But Gladio comes back because again hello vampire, FFXV, Gen, Gladio dies because hello vampire, Prequel, halloween fic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-31
Updated: 2018-10-31
Packaged: 2019-08-11 12:17:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,951
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16475414
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DistractedDream/pseuds/DistractedDream
Summary: Gladiolus Amicitia, heir to House Amicitia, heir to his family's lineage of sending son after son after son to fight the ever-encroaching darkness on their homeland and being damned good at it, wasn't supposed to die like this, bleeding in a field after only twenty-three years of life.This is a short prequel for Halloween of a FFXV vampire AU I hope to write. This is how Gladio became a vampire.





	What I'm Living For

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Halloween! I really wanted to write something for today and settled on a quick prequel to a much longer story I want to write. Also, it was scary how much I enjoyed writing Ardyn. Hopefully I did okay with Ravus and him for the first time!
> 
> Thanks as always to SerenityXStar for betaing!
> 
> Kudos and comments sustain us writers. I save each one.

This wasn't supposed to happen. Not yet. Not to him. Not to his family's hope, his father's pride, his hunters' leader. Gladiolus Amicitia, heir to House Amicitia, heir to his family's lineage of sending son after son after son to fight the ever-encroaching darkness on their homeland and being damned good at it, wasn't supposed to die like this, bleeding in a field after only twenty-three years of life. His sword lay at his side, well within reach if he could manage to grasp it. No matter how many invectives his brain supplied, his body would not heed, hands useless and unresponsive on the ground.

Gladiolus could still feel though. For now. He could feel coldness creeping up from his feet, coldness that contrasted with the warmth of the blood, his blood, coating his neck. If his hand would not listen to pick up his great sword, it should have at least listened to cover the wounds currently draining him of life in this godsforsaken field. And yet, his limbs would not move. He could feel the vibration on the ground from his hunters still fighting, still carrying on the battle, perhaps still unaware their leader had fallen at all.

The daemon had gotten under his guard, had gotten lucky, had gotten a vicious bite locked onto Gladiolus' throat before being shoved away, the stupid thing abandoning him to simply bleed to death rather than finish it and kill him cleanly. None of which was supposed to happen, damnit. At the edge of his dimming vision, the sky was lightening, dawn approaching, the sun coming to ensure an end to the fight. If Gladiolus could hang on, if he could last until sunrise, maybe he could be saved. He only had to survive until then.

"Well, well, well. What have we here?" A face framed by auburn hair leaned over Gladiolus' prone body, teeth too sharp as the vampire smiled sinisterly at him. Gladiolus would have recoiled had he been capable of it. The vampire nudged him with a boot, like the man was a piece of trash momentarily holding his interest. "Waiting for sunrise, are we? To be saved?" The vampire crouched next to him, voice meant to enchant, to lure in victims, assessing Gladiolus' predicament. "I'm afraid you'll find no saviours here, boy." He rifled through Gladiolus' cloak, as though he were already another corpse in the battlefield. Gold eyes widened as Gladiolus' cloak fell back to reveal the feathers of the Amicitia eagle inked into his skin. "Ah! An Amicitia. Really? What a prize indeed."

Cold permeated Gladiolus' arms and chest, his feet and legs already gone numb. Death clawed through his veins, faster and faster, every heartbeat bringing him closer to his last. And this... this daemon abomination was taunting him? Gladiolus' head swam, trying to focus, instincts telling him to fight, though even his battle drive had begun to fuzz and fade. "Nothing to say?," the vampire mocked. His hand pressed down over Gladiolus' chest, the man too gone to struggle for air, as the vampire seemed to consider something to himself. "Normally, I would offer a fighter a choice. But you, Amicitia, are far too great a treasure to be allowed to pass into death's clutches."

If the gods had truly favored his family, Gladiolus would not have been aware of what was about to happen. If they had favored him, even in death, he would have died swiftly from his wound. However, when he needed the gods most, when his faith, his family's faith, should have been rewarded, he was abandoned, left for a daemon's whims - a daemon who now allowed his millennia of death to show on his face, golden eyes glowing, black ichor dripping from his eyes, mouth, nose, and ears. The vampire chuckled, swiping at the mess on his skin. "No, a better end for you will be this. Living death. Becoming that which you hunt, which you hate." The vampire held Gladiolus' jaw open, forcing his slick coated fingers into his mouth, stroking his tongue until the muscle reflexively pushed the ichor down the man's throat.

"Fight it or no, the end will be the same." He patted Gladiolus' cheek, smearing the mess on his skin, and stood, ignoring the dying man as he started to shake. The vampire gestured for another daemon to come. "Gather up our prize. It's time we departed. I think you'll like your new home, Amicitia." The daemon grabbed Gladiolus' wrists, dragging him through the grass, the vampire popping into his vision one last time.

"Oh, I didn't introduce myself. How rude of me." His grin was all teeth and no sincerity, face a perfect mask of humanity once more. "Ardyn Izunia, at your service."

Gladiolus awoke to dirt clogging his nose, choking off his breath, struggling free of ground which held him down, eyes wild as he pushed himself up, gasping. "Finally. I thought I would be here all night." Gladiolus' eyes cut to the side, to the silver-haired vampire lounging against a nearby tree. "Well, come on then. Ardyn wants you to feed and I am not going to waste my time babysitting you for any longer than I must. Stand up."

"No, I..." Gladiolus stared in confusion at his dirt-covered hands. "I'm dead. I died."

"Only for three days."

"Three days..." Gladiolus' stomach roiled, but he had nothing left to purge, the sensation quickly replaced by a sharp cramp. Hunger. "...I'm a vampire. No. No, it's not possible."

"And yet here we are." The vampire approached him slowly, as though he was incredibly bored with absolutely everything. "Now get up. You must be hungry." Gladiolus' stomach clenched again at the words, wrapping his arms around himself. "See? You need food and then all will be well."

Gladiolus' hand snapped out, a surge of adrenaline rushing through him, locking his fingers onto the vampire's wrist. "I am Gladiolus Amicitia! I cannot be... this. A daemon. A filthy vampire!"

With a hiss, the vampire shoved Gladiolus back to the ground, bracing his hand on his chest, pinning him one-handed. He bent over Gladiolus, mismatched eyes glowing as he bared his teeth. Gladiolus' world tilted, realizing he knew this vampire, or at least knew of him. Ravus Nox Fleuret. A heretic turned daemon, a specter spoken of but never seen. Ravus growled, yanking Gladiolus back to the present. "I. Don't. Care. You are Ardyn's latest pet project and my current task. Nothing more. You will get up and you will feed if I must force it down your throat myself." Memories of Ardyn shoving his fingers into Gladiolus' mouth came back to him and he turned his head away. With a disgusted noise, Ravus pushed himself to his feet, wiping the dirt from his knees. "I thought the Amicitia line was strong. Stubborn. Instead, I find a weakling, admitting defeat before fighting at all. I'm disappointed."

"You don't know anything," Gladiolus grumbled though he did sit up once more. Neither moved, Ravus glaring in irritation as Gladiolus stared unseeing at his hands. He should be dead. Cor had beaten it into his head, sometimes literally, as a child, as a hunter in training. If caught, if turned, it was better to accept death than to exist as a vampire. Yet, faced with the decision now, Gladiolus couldn't fathom following through. He hadn't wanted to die on the battlefield. He didn't want to die now. His jaw clenched, knuckles turning white as he fisted his hands.

Ravus' expression eased, voice quiet but firm. "I know if you ever wish to get revenge on Ardyn for what he's done, you need to get up out of the dirt. Now." Ravus' eyes were too knowing as they met Gladiolus', anger and determination flashing there. "Or he will always see you as no more than a lowly worm to be used as bait. So get up. Fight back. Show me what an Amicitia is made of," he said, holding out his hand to help Gladiolus to his feet.

If Gladiolus stood, if he took the vampire's offer of assistance, if he fed, it would be accepting what he'd become. It would mean walking away from his life, his family, his heritage. It would mean having the chance to seek revenge against Ardyn, to protect his family even from the shadows. Could he do that? Could he be a vampire and yet still be Gladiolus? He could. He had to be.

His hand clasped Ravus' and together, they got him to his feet. Gladiolus nodded. "Show me what to do."

Ten years. Ten years once seemed so long, but now? With eternity ahead of Gladiolus, ten years was nothing. He had parted ways with Ravus after a few years; each better suited to seek their revenge against Ardyn in different ways. Ardyn... He had gone to ground like a rat, like a bloated corpse, swollen with his ego, only minions too stupid or too new to know better surrounding him. Gladiolus, however, refused to hide.

No, Gladiolus had made a name for himself, a new House Amicitia, a clan filled with vampires who fought with the hunters, who protected the innocent, who brought retribution on mortal and immortal alike when necessary. With Ardyn in hiding, though, the hunters Gladiolus had once joined settled down, thinking peace was at hand even as the nights grew longer. Instead, a new brand of hunter arose, ones like Gladiolus used to be, believing all vampires deserved death, killing for no other reason than to kill something. Ones who often would cause trouble for sleepy towns, accusing innocents of assisting the vampires or worse, being vampires themselves. Those were the ones Gladiolus and his clan had no sympathy for, killing as indiscriminately as the hunters hoped to kill them.

Gladiolus had just sunk his fangs into one of these hunters when he heard a scream. He lifted his head, ripping out his victim's throat, spotting the source of his clansman's agony. A priest. A young one. Wielding daggers covered in flame. Driving them into the abdomen of one of Gladiolus' vampires. Reflections of fire danced on the priest's spectacles as he yanked his blades free, blood staining the sleeves of his cassock. Though he'd killed the vampire closest to him, the priest remained crouched, defensive, and Gladiolus felt awe replace his rage as he met the priest's green eyes across the blood covered square.

"Fall back." The command was rote, Gladiolus not breaking eye contact with the priest. "Fall back now!" A flurry of motion passed him as his clan heeded his order, leaving only the priest. And him. The priest straightened, stunned as his enemy fled, using his forearm to wipe his brow. Gladiolus was enchanted. Fascinated. Enthralled. But he wasn't stupid. He mocked a bow to the priest. "Another time," he purred, confusing the poor man more as Gladiolus warped into the darkness, disappearing from sight.

He watched as the priest came to his senses, putting away one of his daggers to begin the gruesome task to ensure none of the fallen would rise again. The priest was methodical, thorough, and had completely captured Gladiolus' attention. He stood, the dawn's light coloring the sky behind him as he looked to the shadows, as though he could sense the vampire watching him. With a hum, Gladiolus' form shifted, a dark wolf with amber eyes turning for his home. There would definitely be another time for him and the pretty priest.

Ignis' eyes narrowed, trying to pierce the darkness, only catching a flash of teeth and tail before the sun conquered the shadows. Had he seen...? No. Impossible. Sleep. He needed sleep. And a bath.


End file.
